


Together

by DustyAttic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Mostly Just Cute Drarry, No Smut, Non-Explicit, doesn't happen though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 01:59:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14070411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyAttic/pseuds/DustyAttic
Summary: Harry and Draco through their eighth year at Hogwarts as they're becoming friends and more than friends, learning about each other, and growing into better people.





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> Wowow this turned out to be long. It's basically a compilation of all the HCs I've had in my head/seen on Tumblr over the years that I finally decided to compile into one giant one-shot. This is my first Harry Potter fic, and I really hope you guys like it!

It wasn’t ever meant to be a thing. Harry knew that. He did. 

It was just that, after they came back for the eighth year that McGonagall mandated, saying they deserved one more year of childhood and proper education, after all that they’d lost, Harry was lonely. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t have friends. Of course he had Ron and Hermione, like always, but now that they were officially together… it was different. Whenever the three of them were hanging out, Harry kind of felt like a third wheel, no matter how many times Hermione privately assured him he wasn’t. And Ginny, well… ever since he’d freaked out when she’d tried to do, um, more than kissing with him… their whole relationship kind of fell apart. It wasn’t like she was mean to him or even really ignored him, but they couldn’t quite hang out anymore without it being uncomfortable. 

So usually, while Ron and Hermione were off snogging someplace and Ginny was with her other friends and Neville was in the greenhouse and Dean and Seamus were god-knows-where, Harry would just be alone. Usually in the common room or outside, and most often alone. And it was starting to get to him. 

And that’s when he realized Malfoy, of all people, was alone a lot, too. 

The first time he noticed, it was during Harry’s free period, and he was in the library. And Malfoy was there, too, sitting in one of the little window nooks, kind of curled up, head leaned against the glass, reading something. Harry was taken aback by the sight of it. He looked so… small. And Harry had never thought of Malfoy as small before. 

Instead of saying anything to him, like he sort of wanted to, Harry just sat down a few seats away from him and started reading, too. Draco didn’t even seem to notice him. He got up at the end of the period, walked right by Harry, and presumably headed to his next class. 

He really was small. He looked skinny and nervous and even though his robes were perfectly pressed they looked loose. Harry had built up some muscle and put on a few inches over the summer, mostly due to Molly constantly overfeeding him. And Draco looked like he’d lost weight. He couldn’t have lost height, but he might as well have. Harry wondered if he was finally taller than the blond boy. 

And all of these observations lead to Harry getting up and following Draco out of the library. 

He didn’t really have much of a plan. He just wanted to keep Malfoy in his line if vision for as long as he could because he looked so small and vulnerable. He didn’t realize how stupid he was being until Parkinson turned the corner they were approaching and said, “There you are, Dray! Christ, we’ve been looking for you like mad.” 

Of course Draco Malfoy wasn’t going off to hide alone someplace. Of course he was still Slytherin king. And of course he didn’t need Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived to irk Malfoy, following him. 

Luckily, Draco hadn't seemed to notice. So Harry just turned down one corridor, not looking where he was going, and watched as Draco gave Pansy some reply and the two of them headed off together. 

 

That was the first time. The second time was different. 

Back in sixth year, when he’d walked in on Draco crying in the lavatory, Harry had made one of the worst decisions of his life. This time, when he walked in to see the blond boy sitting by one of the sinks, hand over his mouth, eyes unfocused and tears, Harry was determined not to make that same mistake again. 

“Malfoy?” he said, walking over. Draco tensed, taking his hand away from his face and immediately going for his wand, but Harry held his hands up in surrender. “I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

Slowly, shakily, Draco lowered his wand. He stared at Harry for a second before muttering, “Sod off, Potter.” 

But Harry was nothing if not stubborn. So instead of sodding off, he sat down next to the blond boy. “What’s wrong?” 

Draco said nothing. He was sitting pin straight and tense, shoulders up, facing ahead. After a few seconds, Harry noticed the scar peeking out from under the sleeve of his robe. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “About everything. Especially about the sectumsempra.” 

At this, Draco tensed further. He lifted his chin slightly but still didn’t say a word. Sighing, Harry reached for his sleeve. “Is that what this is-” he started to asked, pulling it back, but Draco pulled his arm away with such force that his elbow slammed into the stone wall. 

It wasn’t quick enough for Harry to miss the bright red scar that spelled “traitor,” which was carved into Draco’s skin. He knew the look off that scar; Hermione had one just like it. He knew it would never heal.

“Dr- Malfoy, I didn’t mean…” Harry trailed, feeling immeasurably guilty. Another person scarred forever because of him. 

“Please,” Draco breathed, voice trembling. Harry was taken aback as the blond boy shut his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. “Please just… go.” 

After a few seconds, Harry nodded. He stood and began walking towards the door when suddenly Draco called out, “Potter.” He locked eyes with Harry, one tear running down his cheek, before looking away again. “I’m sorry, too.” 

When he got back to Gryffindor tower, he found a crowd in the common room, pouring over the daily prophet. 

“Oi, Harry, did you hear yet?” Dean shouted as he walked in. Harry furrowed his brow and walked over. 

“Hear what?” he asked. 

“Apparently Malfoy’s mummy got convicted,” Seamus said, handing him the paper. Harry frowned. That didn’t make sense. Lucius had gotten life in Azkaban, but Narcissa and Draco had been acquitted. Harry has testified. He wouldn’t be alive without the two of them. 

But there it was, on the front cover, Narcissa Malfoy getting escorted out of the courtroom in handcuffs. She looked directly into the photo at the last moment, and Harry could only see fear in her eyes.

“On what charges?” 

“Negligent abuse,” Dean said. “She won’t get life, but they’ll keep her for a while.”

Suddenly, Ron was patting Harry on the back. “Sorry, mate. I know you were really adamant about her and the ferret getting wiped clean.”

Harry stared at the paper a second longer. In the corner, there was a picture of a scared looking Draco at the hearing. What will the Malfoy heir do now? read the caption under his name. 

“It’s fine,” Harry finally said, dropping the paper. He walked towards his room and then crawled into bed, something heavy in his heart. 

So things went on like that for a while. Harry would see Draco, with Pansy or Blaise or sometimes Goyle. He would keep his head down, keep his voice low. And, during meals, he wouldn’t eat much, or anything at all. During class, he would take his notes, complete his exams, and cause no trouble. He seemed to not be doing horrible. But Harry knew.

 

The third time happened, Harry turned the corner to find Draco and Luna sitting in the middle of the corridor. 

“Harry,” Luna said softly, smiling. “Draco was just thinking of you.”

Immediately, Draco’s whole face went red. The blush crept down his neck as he looked away from Harry and towards Luna, sputtering, “What- what a ludicrous thing to say! I made no mention of- of scarehead.”

“Oh, but you furrowed your brow, and you had that look in your eyes that you only get when you’re thinking of Harry,” Luna said, shaking her head. 

“I-” Draco said, looking absolutely horrified. “I don’t waste enough time thinking about Potter to have a face for it. You must be as loony as everyone says.” With this, he stood up and stalked away, snapping his robes. 

“Hm,” Luna sighed, standing, too. “I think I’ve embarrassed him. Draco is awfully sensitive. Especially when it comes to you, Harry.”

Still trying to process everything that had just happened, Harry stared at the Ravenclaw. “Draco Malfoy? Sensitive?” he gaped. 

“Oh, yes. Very sensitive. He’s been through a lot, Harry.” She pushed back some of her hair, walking by him. “Well, I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll… see you, Luna,” Harry said, watching her go. After a few more seconds of shock, he rushed to find Hermione. 

“Are Luna and Draco friends?” he rushed out as soon as he got to the common room. Hermione was sitting on the couch, curled up around one of her books. 

“Harry!” she said as he crashed onto the couch beside her.

“Well?” the green eyed boy huffed. “Are they?”

“Draco? And Luna? I don’t… think so. Although I have seen them together a few times. I figure Luna is just sweet to everyone. There’s no way Draco treats her decently,” she shrugged. 

Harry stared at her for a moment. “What do you mean by that?” he finally asked. 

“Well,” Hermione said, uncertain. “Draco Malfoy’s not… the best person, Harry. You know that.”

“He was just a child, Hermione. We were all just...” sighing frustratedly, Harry looked away. “We were all just kids.” 

There was a long stretch of silence, before Hermione reached over and took his hand. “You’re right, Harry. And although Draco wasn’t the… nicest as a child, perhaps he’s changed. Who knows? Luna’s certainly a good judge of character.”

Harry held her hand. “I just feel like… he lost everything.”

“We all lost a lot, Harry,” Hermione said gently. 

“But he lost it all. And nobody… everyone loves us, Mione. Even if the attention is overwhelming, it’s still… good press. Malfoy… Draco lost everything, and everyone will always see him as a criminal. Even though he was just a child, being forced to do things at the threat of having his whole family and himself killed. Or tortured.” Harry looked into the fire, biting the inside of his lower lip. “He saved my life. Multiple times. And all he’s gotten in return is… his family taken from him and… his peers hating him. I heard he got hexed in the middle of the street before school. They called him Death Eater trash.”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sighed, moving her book aside and leaning into him. “I know you want to save everyone. But just because Draco isn’t faring very well right now doesn’t mean you owe him anything. Things will get better for him. They’ll get better for all of us. They have to.”

Harry didn’t say anything. He leaned his head on top of hers and tried to keep the image of Draco’s sad, scared eyes from creeping into his head. 

 

The fourth time was the time that things Changed. 

It was like any other fall evening. Ron was swirling flower petals around Hermione’s nose as she tried to study and pretended to be annoyed. Dean and Seamus and Harry were talking about Hufflepuff playing Gryffindor the next day. Ginny and Parvati were talking about their NEWTS, with Ginny butting in everytime one of the boys got a Quidditch stat wrong. 

And then Draco Malfoy rushed by their cozy group, holding his wand with a death grip, looking unkempt for once in his life. That was what worried Harry most. 

“Woah, where are you going, ferret?” Ron called after him, voice mostly playful, slightly malicious. Hermione hit him with her book but Draco didn’t look back. 

After a second, Harry got up and sprinted after him. 

“Draco!” he called as the blond boy ran inside, through the halls. “Draco, stop!”

“Get away from me!” Draco called back, turning into a lavatory. “Leave me be!”

“Draco,” Harry huffed as he rounded the corner. He was about to speak when he saw the position Malfoy was in. Wand to his own neck. Staring at himself in the mirror. “Draco…”

“Leave,” the blond boy said, voice empty. “Get away from here, Potter.”

“Draco, please. This… this isn’t the way,” Harry said. He felt incredibly helpless. “Just… put the wand down.”

“Why do you care what I do?” Draco sneered, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. “You hate me, remember? Everyone hates me.”

“I don’t!” Harry said, stepping forward. Draco tensed, and the dark haired boy stopped moving. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I owe you my life.”

“No,” Draco shook his head. “No. You’re just being nice to… talk me out of it.”

“I’m not,” Harry rushed, making Draco roll his eyes. 

“Of course you are. You’re the Chosen One.” He looked at Harry in the mirror. “But you can’t save me.”

“I don’t want to save you because I want to save somebody, I just- you can’t do this, Draco. You can’t. Please,” Harry said, taking another small step forward. 

“It’s too much,” Draco whispered, shutting his eyes. “Everyone’s gone and I can’t- I can’t take it anymore.”

“I’m not gone,” Harry said softly. “And I get it. It’s too much for me sometimes, too. I feel like… everything that could ever make me happy has been taken away. But then I look around and I realize… it’s not true. There’s so much good in this world, Draco. Just waiting to make us happy.”

“Maybe for you. You’re a hero. I’m- I’m a criminal. I don’t deserve to live,” Draco said, tightening his grip on his wand. 

“You were just a kid,” Harry said. Draco’s hand loosened slightly and Harry took a big step forward. “Draco. Please. Put the wand down.” 

With the softest, saddest sigh, the blond boy did as he said. He let the wand clatter to the ground and, still gripping the edge of the sink, fell to his knees. 

“That’s good,” Harry whispered, feeling surreal. He carefully picked up the wand and then walked to Draco, kneeling beside him and pulling the smaller boy into the crook of his neck. “You’re okay. Everything’s going to get better. I promise.”

There was a long time where neither of them moved. Then Harry whispered, “Do you want to go to Slytherin?”

Silently, Draco shook his head. 

“Okay, then… I assume you don’t want to go to Gryffindor.”

Another head shake. 

Standing them both up carefully, Harry looked at Draco, who refused to meet his eye. “Room of Requirement, then?” 

A nod. They moved towards the door, Draco gripping Harry’s hand like his life depended on it. 

The halls were mostly empty, so they made their way to the Room of Requirement with ease. When Harry opened the door, he flushed at the sight of a cozy looking bedroom. One bed. 

“Well, you can…” the green eyed boy gestured vaguely. Draco, seemingly incapable of speaking, took off his robe, walked to the bed, and layed down. Slowly, Harry followed, grabbing a few pillows and laying on the floor beside him. Draco rolled to face away from Harry, curling up into a small ball. The dark haired boy watched him for a while, before closing his eyes. 

 

When he woke up next, it was to the sound of Draco’s screams. 

The blond boy was writhing in bed, skin a deep shade of pink, face contorted. “Draco! Draco!” Harry whisper-shouted, getting up on his knees and hovering over the other boy. He shook his lightly. “Wake up!”

Hands spasming as his to push Harry away, Draco flew upright in bed. His eyes snapped open but he continued screaming for a few seconds, looking around furiously, until recognition settled into his face. “I’m sorry,” he panted. “I- I should go.”

“No, stay,” Harry said immediately. “Are you okay?” 

“Why do you care?” Draco asked softly. Harry rolled his eyes. 

“Haven’t we been over this already? I care because I care about you.”

There were a few silent seconds as Draco sniffed and stared down at the blankets that he clutched with white-knuckled fists. And then, “He used to tell me he’d have her, first. He’d have my mother, and then kill her and my father.” His breathing got shallower. “And then he’d have me. And then… then he’d kill me.”

Harry stared at him for a beat before looking away. “Did he ever…”

“No. Not that. But he…” here the blond boy shrugged. Harry looked at his arms. Traitor, liar, coward. There was something dark and red on the side of his neck, leading down under the hem of his shirt. Malfoy tightened his grip on the blankets. “He did other things.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “You weren’t- you never- you didn’t deserve that. Any of it.”

Draco was quiet. “You can go,” he said after a minute. “You should go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Harry shook his head. 

“I won’t try anything,” Draco whispered.

At this, Harry tentatively reached up and took one of his hands. “Draco… you should talk to someone. Madame Pomfrey or…”

Draco shook his head. “She can’t help me. I don’t… I’m fine. Sometimes it just becomes… all too much.”

“I know,” Harry nodded. “It gets that way for me, too.” He squeezed the blond boy’s hand. Draco gave no reaction. “But you could always… talk to me, you know. I’m always here.”

“You have your friends. I’m not one of them. I know you’re just here because you feel guilty for some rubbish reason,” Draco mumbled.

“That’s not it,” Harry argued. “You… I want to be your friend, Draco. I want to… be there for you. Because I know what you’ve gone through, at least to some extent. And I… I want us to move on from stupid, childhood arguments and just… be friends.”

Draco scoffed quietly. “Potter and Malfoy, friends? There would be riots.”

“Yeah, well. Let them riot. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we’re all… healing. Like we deserve. Like you deserve.” Harry tried to catch Draco’s eye but the blond’s head remained stubbornly down, mouth in a straight line. 

“Well… I don’t think the weasel and Granger would appreciate me cozying up to the Gryffindor table, and I can tell you Blaise and Pansy wouldn’t appreciate you doing the same at Slytherin. I don’t see how, or why you want to be my friend. We’re utterly… incompatible,” he said, voice taking a soft, sad edge at the end. Harry frowned. 

“We’d be great friends,” he said, making Draco scoff. “I’m serious! We could talk about… Quidditch and… Potions-”

“Since when have you been interested in Potions?” Draco asked, glaring at him. 

“I’m just saying,” Harry shrugged. “We’d be fine. It’s not as if we need to be attached at the hip all of the sudden. But being friends would be nice.”

After a moment, Draco sighed. “Fine. I suppose… being friends would be nice. Even if you are the most annoying, ludicrous, stupidly arrogant boy I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

Laughing, Harry shook his head. “Well, you’re not exactly a walk in the park either, Malfoy.”

At this, Draco gave a tentative smile. Then he stood and grabbed his robes from where he’d left them on the ground. “Very well. I suppose we’re friends now. Don’t let it go to your head, Potter.” 

“Don’t worry,” Harry shook his head. “I definitely won’t. And, Draco… if you ever feel… overwhelmed again, please don’t-”

“I won’t,” Draco shook his head. And then he was walking out the door.

 

“Harry?” Ron said groggily as the dark haired boy climbed into his bed. “What- what time is it, mate?”

“Late,” Harry replied. 

Ron stared at him from across the room. “Were you with Malfoy this whole time?”

Harry hummed, pulling the covers over his shoulders. 

With an indignant sound, Ron stared at his friend. “Well?” he asked after a moment.

“Well what?”

“What the bloody hell were you doing with Malfoy?”

“He needed help, Ron,” Harry sighed, rolling to face the wall. 

“Malfoy needed your help? Have you gone mad?”

“He was upset and he- he hasn’t got things very easy, you know.” 

“Malfoy hasn’t got things easy?” Ron sputtered, sitting up. “Merlin, what are you on about?”

“Just go to sleep,” Harry mumbled. 

“No, I want to know why you were helping the ferret! After all he’s done to us!”

“What, so you think because he was a bit of a bully when we were twelve, he deserves-”

“A bit of a bully?! Harry, he called Hermione a mudblood, he mocked my family name, he tried to kill us on multiple occasions-”

“He never tried to kill us! If anything, I tried to kill him-”

“He almost killed Dumbledore!”

“Because he had to, Ron!” Harry stared at his friend, exasperated. “I’m not… I’m not trying to give him a free pass. I know he did some… truly terrible things. But most of what he did he did because he didn’t know better or because… because he had to. And he needed help. So I helped him.”

Ron glared at Harry, before laying down and pulling the blankets up. “Whatever. You can help Malfoy if you want. But don’t expect me to forgive him, just because you have.”

Sighing, Harry laid down, too. Maybe Draco had been right. Being friends with each other wouldn’t be all that simple. 

 

The next time they talked was a few days later. Malfoy was in the library again, bent over some book, taking notes with one hand. “Hey,” Harry said nervously, sitting down next to him. 

Without looking up, Draco made a noise of acknowledgement. 

Feeling a bit silly, Harry fiddled with his quill. “So… how are you?”

“Brilliant, thanks,” Malfoy replied, curt. He still didn’t look up. 

“Oh,” Harry said. “That’s… good. And you- are you-”

“Jesus, Potter, spit it out,” Draco snapped, finally looking up at him. 

Harry was going to say it. Are you okay? Are you still feeling like everything is too much? Are you going to try again? But then he saw the slightest look of pleading in Draco’s eyes. The way he gripped his own quill just too tightly. The way he was silently begging Harry, with his irritable tone and short-temperedness, to just act as if things were normal between them. 

So, instead, Harry said. “I was just going to ask if you were enjoying your book,” he shrugged. “Looks like a boring read to me.”

Face going offended, Draco opened his mouth. “Well you’ve never had the best taste, have you, Potter? I should think not, with that outfit.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Harry asked in genuine surprise, looking down at his jeans and flannel. 

“Oh, please. You look like you’re trying half-arsedly to be lumbersexual but you can’t bother with the whole package so instead you settle for school boy with little to no motivation,” Draco said, tilting his chin up. Harry gaped at him. 

“Well- I actually am a school boy with little to no motivation!” he said. 

“Yes, I happen to love cats, but that doesn’t mean I dress like it,” Malofy said.

Rolling his eyes, Harry said, “Well, what would you suggest I do to be more fashionable?”

“First of all, have you ever heard of ironing? There’s a very simple spell for it. Granger could probably teach you.”

“Why don’t you teach me?” Harry asked, leaning over Draco’s book. 

Scoffing, Draco sat back. “What?”

“I asked you to teach me.”

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because clearly you’re the best at it,” Harry shrugged, knowing Hermione would kill him if she heard him say that. 

“You’re right of course,” Draco nodded. “But I really can’t be bothered.”

“What else are you doing?” Harry asked, looking at his book. “Potions stuff?”

“Ugh,” Draco scoffed, shifting away and shielding the book with one arm. 

“Why do you like Potions so much anyway?” Harry asked. 

“If you must know, it’s because it’s methodical. So long as you complete every step properly, the final product will be perfect,” Draco said. Harry nodded. 

“So, will you teach me?” he asked. 

Draco hummed, flipping his page. “If it’s the only way you’ll leave me alone.”

Smiling, Harry stood up. “Great, come on.”

“Really, right now?” Draco said, looking up at him. “I have studying to do.”

“For what?”

“My exams coming up?” Draco shook his head. “Not all of us can be The Chosen One. Some of us actually have to try at life.”

At this, Harry rolled his eyes and stood up. “Fine. You can study.”

“Wh- you’re going?” Draco asked, looking up at him.

“If you want me to,” Harry shrugged. Draco bit his lower lip, looking away. 

“You really should learn how to de-wrinkle your clothes.”

And so Draco taught Harry how to iron his clothes magically. And somehow Harry coaxed him into going for lunch at Hogsmeade after that, because it was lunch time so why not. And then Draco insisted on them going through some stores because “If you’re going to iron your clothes, you should have nice clothes to iron.” And by the time they got back to school, even though their conversations had been sparse, Draco flushed and looked just happy enough that Harry knew he’d had a good time. “I’ll see you around,” Harry said quietly as they reached where they’d have to part ways. 

Draco smirked. “See you around, Potter.”

 

Harry stopped counting times after that. Although they didn’t hang out constantly, he and Draco started becoming more comfortable around each other, and became sort of friends. And there were things Harry was learning about Draco.

The blond boy was meticulously put together by his own accord. Not because he had house elves to make his bed for him or his mother to comb his hair; Draco did all that himself. This was another thing Harry was learning. Although a hugely spoiled brat, Draco was not incapable. He knew how to cook, how to do his wash, how to keep his room, how to handle his (admittedly large sum of) money. He expected certain things, but didn’t like asking for them, and so he knew how to get buy on his own.

“Of course I know how to take care of myself,” he scoffed one day when Harry commented on his surprising ability to be organized and self-sufficient. “How could I have any pride if I needed others to do it for me?”

“You always seemed like the kid who got everything he wanted,” Harry shrugged. “I just figured you’d want your bed made and your cooking done.”

Pursing his lips slightly, Draco looked away. “Yes, well. Although you’re right that materials goods weren’t often withheld from me, I was taught how to survive on my own. How to behave as an adult.”

His voice softened slightly as he folded another pair of slacks. “They weren’t horrible parents all the time. They just wanted me to have the best.”

And even though he didn’t completely understand, Harry nodded. “I’m sure they did,” he said seriously, and he didn’t miss the war Draco’s ears went a little pink at that.

 

Harry was also learning that Draco was actually sensitive towards other people, if only when he wanted to be. Like when somebody called Pansy Slytherin scum and she threatened to hex them, Harry watched as Draco walked to her, tilted his chin up towards the other person, and said, “He isn’t worth it, Pans,” before leading them back to Slytherin table. And then Harry watched as Draco sat her down and put one arm around her and tucked her head under his chin and whispered something that made her look slightly less miserable.

And then there was the time he was sitting with Luna outside one afternoon (because apparently they were friends? Like who knew?) and Harry happened to be looking when Draco conjured a little bouquet of lavender for Luna. It was her favorite flower, which she’d told Harry once a few years ago. He’d forgotten and likely wouldn’t have ever remembered if he hadn’t seen Luna’s face light up. Draco flushed as she exclaimed something, and started mumbling, probably some excuse about why he remembered. She smiled, taking a sniff off the flowers, and Harry didn’t miss the way Draco smiled, too. 

And once, when he and Harry were sitting in the library on one of the couches, legs touching slightly in a way that made Harry’s heart speed up for some reason, and Draco was berating his lack of common sense when it came to things like keeping his room clean, he abruptly stopped in the middle of his sentence and looked away. “What?” Harry asked. 

“Well- nothing. Nevermind. I just… it’s not like you had anyone to teach you, so I figure, it’s not right of me to… Well, anyway. It’s not a big deal.” The blond boy looked genuinely embarrassed, which Harry found startling. 

“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s kind of nice that you… treat me like everyone else.”

Draco let out a short breath. “I understand what you mean.”

And the green eyed boy didn’t have to ask for an explanation. 

 

Harry had stopped counting times by the Big Time. 

He and Draco were closer by then. Harry has established a simple routine of splitting his time between Ron and Hermione, and Draco. It was a bit weird, but Hermione encouraged it. Ron didn’t like it, but he usually kept his mouth shut. Everything was basically fine. Until it wasn’t.

The thing about Harry was that he hadn’t done much drinking in his life. Unlike the normal teenager, he didn’t get a chance to go to many parties. But during eighth year, he decided to have a bit of fun. Mostly by Ron’s coaxing. 

One night, they were all a bit too far gone to be sensible in the Gryffindor common room. 

Because Harry hadn’t done much drinking in his life, he didn’t quite know his limits. Or that he sometimes got paranoid when he was drunk. And drowsy.

Which was why, when he fell half asleep on the couch and was jostled awake by a seventh year sitting down next to him, he accidentally… paralysed them. 

“Harry!” Hermione gasped as the room grew quiet. Harry looked in horror at the boy frozen beside him. 

“I didn’t- I never meant- I thought-” 

“Somebody needs to get him to the Hospital Wing,” Hermione continued, kneeling down in front of him. 

Everyone shuffled around, nobody wanting to get in trouble for being drunk. “I’ll go,” Harry said immediately, stumbling to his feet. 

“Harry, mate, you’re going to get suspended if you go,” Ron said, shaking his head. 

“That doesn’t- it doesn’t matter. It’s my fault, I have to…” shaking his head, Harry hoisted the other boy up. “I have to take him.”

So, with all eyes on him, he stood up and walked them both towards the door. As soon as he got outside, he got into the trouble of navagting the moving stairs while wasted and carrying a paralysed body. The trip actually went quicker than usual, considering he went down on his arse half the way. 

“Shit, shit,” he mumbled, standing them up at the bottom. He looked at the seventh year and tried not to cry. “I’m so sorry. It’s going to be-”

“Potter?” 

Spinning around, Harry was surprised to see Draco. “Malfoy?”

“What are you doing?” Draco asked, walking over. “What’s happened?”

“I- I-”

“Are you drunk? Is that boy paralysed?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Harry sniffed, shaking his head. “I never meant to, I just-” his voice went dry as he starting crying. 

“Potter, it’s-”

Suddenly, the two of them were interrupted by Professor McGonagall rounding the corner. “Boys!” she exclaimed. “What in Merlin’s name is going on here?”

Looking back and forth between Draco, McGonagall and the paralysed boy, Harry tried to stop crying. He opened his mouth to say something when suddenly Draco blurted out, “I did it.”

“Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall shook her head. “Explain yourself this instant.”

“I was out of bed for some fresh air. Potter and this boy caught me by surprise. I never meant to harm them, I just…” he looked down. “I was caught by surprise.”

McGonagall pursed her lips. “Go to bed, Mr. Potter. I will escort this boy to the Hospital Wing. Mr. Malfoy, you are suspended. Starting immediately. Return to your room and gather your things.”

“Where will I go?” Draco asked quietly. 

“You will complete your suspension in school, I suppose. We will provide a room for you. Now, Mr. Potter. The boy.”

Dazedly, Harry handed the seventh year over.

McGonagall nodded. “Go to bed,” she said. “Mr. Malfoy, I expect to see you in my office in fifteen minutes.”

Draco nodded. “Yes, professor.”

Looking between them one last time, McGonagall tisked once more and walked away. Leaving the boys alone. 

Harry turned towards Draco, who was turning pink. “Why did you do it?” he asked quietly. “I don’t understand.”

Draco looked down. “It doesn’t matter if I’m in trouble. I’m a Malfoy. It’s what they expect.”

“That’s- it’s not-”

“Nobody trusts me anyway. And it’s not as if I have disappointed parents to go home to. I don’t have anybody left to disappoint.”

“Draco,” Harry said softly, shaking his head.

“When I threw that wand to you,” Draco said, “I betrayed the only people who’d ever wanted me. I don’t regret it. It was the right thing.” He took a deep breath before turning and starting to walk away. “But I’ve given you everything. So what’s a little more?”

Harry watched him go until he was gone. And then he made his way back upstairs, and said nothing when the others asked him what had happened.

 

When Draco walked into the Great Hall for the first time after his suspension, Harry stood. “What are you doing?” Ron asked as he rushed across the room. 

“Dray!” he heard Pansy say happily, and he watched her stand and hug the blond boy. They pulled apart as he reached Slytherin’s table. 

“Draco,” Harry breathed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should’ve- I shouldn’t have let you take the fall for me. I should’ve told her, I should’ve-”

Draco stared at him, surprised. “I already told you it’s fine, Potter. We couldn’t have the Golden Boy getting suspended, could we?”

Pansy was watching them curiously. Harry gaped.

“Well… thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” he finally said, red in the face. Draco scoffed and sat down. 

“Don’t worry about it. You can return to Gryffindor now.”

And that was it. 

 

They didn’t speak for a month. Which was difficult. Harry had grown used to Draco’s presence, but it seemed like the Big Time had sent their friendship back to square one. 

“Oi, Harry?” Ron waved one hand in front of his face. He’d spaced out during lunch, staring across the room at Slytherin. “Are you still moping about the ferret?”

“Be sympathetic,” Hermione sighed. 

“Why should I? Malfoy’s the one who decided to take the fall for you, mate. He’s got no right to be angry with you. I think you’re better off, anyway,” Ron shrugged. “I dunno why you were hanging out with him in the first place.”

Harry looked away. “It doesn’t matter,” he said sullenly. Ron rolled his eyes, grabbing more food. And that was how things went on for a while. 

Until, that is, Draco grabbed him by the tie in the middle of the hall one day and dragged him into an empty room, hissing out, “We need to talk, Potter.”

“Wha-” Harry stuttered, stumbling after him. Draco closed the door and started pacing. 

Somehow, during this month, he’d gotten skinnier. His eyes looked big and his shirt was too loose over the collarbones pressed to his skin. 

“I need your help,” Draco finally said. “My mother- she’s getting retried. I need you to testify for her.”

“What?” Harry shook his head. “Draco, she’s being tried for neg-”

“I know what she’s being tried for!” Draco snapped. 

“Well, what would I say at that trial? I didn’t grow up with you.”

“Just- it doesn’t matter what you say! Don’t you bloody understand? They’ll let her go if you testify. They adore you.”

“I don’t think-”

“Please,” Draco shook his head. “Please just do this. I need- I need her to come home.” He closed his eyes, pressing both hands to his forehead. “I need her to come home.”

“Okay, okay,” Harry nodded. He walked over and wrapped both arms around Draco, pulling him close. “I’ll testify. I’ll get her home.”

Draco took deep, shaky breaths until he was calm. After a few more minutes, he sighed. “Let me go. Please.”

Letting go, Harry took a step back. Draco looked embarrassed, but mostly tired. Staring at him, Harry shook his head. “Why have you been ignoring me?”

“What?” Draco asked, snapping to look at him. 

“Why- why have you been ignoring me? Are you angry? That I let you get suspended for me?”

“What? Oh hell, Potter. No. I was… people knew I’d taken the fall for you. I couldn’t come running into your arms as soon as I was released, people would think I’ve fallen in bloody love with you. Besides,” here he looked down, uncomfortable. “I thought you’d come to me eventually.”

Flushing, Harry opened and closed his mouth. Something about Draco saying people would think they were in love had made his stomach twist. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed. 

“It’s not your fault,” Draco muttered. “Anyway, thank you. For the trial. I’ll explain the details as soon as I have them okay.”

He went to walk away, but Harry grabbed his hand. Turning bright pink, the blond boy looked at their hands and then up at Harry. “Wha-”

“Can we be friends again? Please? I can’t- I just…” Harry shook his head. 

Draco stared at him for a beat. “I’ll see you later, Potter,” he nodded after a beat. And then he left. 

 

So they fell back into an uneasy routine. When Narcissa was aquitted, Draco nearly cried, and threw both arms around Harry after the trial. “Thank you,” he said softly. After that, the routine became more easy. 

One day, they were sitting outside. Draco was studying and Harry wasn’t doing much besides playing around with his wand. “Dray,” he said after a while. Draco snapped his head towards him.

“What did you call me?”

“Dray. That’s what Pansy calls you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Pansy and Pansy alone,” Draco said shortly. 

“What have you got against nicknames?” Harry asked. “You don’t use first names, you don’t use nicknames. What is it with you?”

Rolling his eyes, Draco went back to reading. “I don’t have anything against them. Last names just seem more fitting for you and your little friends.”

“Why? Because we’re mortal enemies?” Harry asked. Draco rolled his eyes again. 

“Exactly.”

Laughing slightly, Harry sat up. “Come on. Harry. I know you can say it?”

Draco looked at him, deadpan. “Fine. Harry. Is that better?” he asked. 

“Much. Now, Hermione and Ron.” 

“You’re pushing it,” Draco scoffed. “I may have deemed you tolerable, but I have yet to come to terms with Granger and Weasley.”

It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. “You’re quite impossible, you know.”

“Whatever,” Draco said back. “You’re not easy to be around either. Harry.”

 

The second first time was different than the first first time. 

“What are you doing? No, no, you have to-”

“Draco, don’t you think I know-”

“Obviously not-”

At this point they were in a precarious position, with Harry laying half on his back, trying to hold the wand out of Draco’s reach, and the blond boy was practically on top of him. They both kind of realized this at the same time. Draco looked down at him with wide eyes and tried to scramble away, but this made him fall farther, knocking their chests together. Harry laughed for a second, except then he wasn’t laughing because bloody hell, Draco Malfoy’s lips were an inch away from his. And maybe Harry had known this for a while, or maybe he was just realizing now, but he really wanted to kiss those lips. 

So, having -10 impulse control, he did. 

Draco pulled back immediately. “What the hell, Potter?”

And reality came crashing back. Sitting up, Harry shook his head. “Oh god, I’m sorry! I didn’t- I wasn’t- I can just go, we can say this never happened and-”

“Wait!” Draco said, grabbing his arm as he went to leave. “Do you… like me?”

“No!” Harry shook his head. “I mean, maybe? I haven’t given it much thought. But I just… you were so close and I suddenly just wanted to… yeah.”

Draco kept staring at him. “No,” he finally said. “You weren’t supposed to like me.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Harry said. 

“I was supposed to wait this out! I’d get over you eventually! You were never meant to like me back!” Draco ranted. And wait, what?

“What?” Harry asked. 

Sighing, Draco crossed his arms and raised his nose up. “You were never meant to like me back, Harry. You’ve thrown a wrench in my plans.”

“Do you… like… me?”

Draco flushed. “Unfortunately, my common sense and my infatuations don’t always line up.”

They were both quiet for a minute, until Harry stumbled forward and kissed Draco again. The blond boy oomphed in surprise, falling backwards. This time, he didn’t pull away. 

 

A while later, they were still sitting next to each other. Harry had Draco’s hand in his and he was tracing feather light patterns over his palm.

“Will you stop that?” Draco snapped, tugging his hand way. 

“Sorry,” Harry shrugged. “So… what now?”

There was silence. And then Draco laughed. Quietly, almost in disbelief. “I don’t really know. I said there would be riots if we became friends. Imagine the reaction if we were…”

“Boyfriends?” Harry finished his sentence. Draco flushed. Sighing, Harry said, “Maybe we should just… keep it a secret. For now.”

“For now,” Draco nodded. 

“Are we boyfriends?” Harry asked. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know, Potter. I suppose we’re no longer just friends.”

“Well…” Harry shrugged. “I think I’d like to be your boyfriend, if you’d like to be mine.”

“I’d probably be a shit boyfriend,” Draco said. “I’m not very romantic. I’m not even very nice.”

“That’s alright,” Harry said. “Nice can be boring.”

“You’re nice,” Draco pointed out. 

“I’m boring,” Harry replied. 

“That’s true,” Draco nodded. After a beat, he added, “But I like nice.”

They were quiet for a while after that. Then Draco said, “So we won’t tell anyone?”

Harry nodded. “Not yet.” 

 

Turns out, “not yet” lasted about six weeks. Six really fun, sometimes awkward, mostly sexy-secret filled weeks. 

Harry liked the secret. It was fun, having something the whole world didn’t know about. And being with Draco was absolutely new and exciting. New in the best way. Change could be scary, and had been a lot of the time. But not now. 

“Hi,” Harry whispered now, hovering half over Draco while they layed in Harry’s bed. Everyone had gone to Hogsmeade for the night, and Harry had given the excuse of needing to study. Which Hermione was a bit suspicious of, but nobody else seemed to think much of it. 

Draco scoffed. “Why are you saying hi now? I’ve been here for two hours.”

“I don’t know,” Harry said quietly, reaching down and running one thumb over his cheek bone. Draco flushed, kind of looking away. 

“I should go,” he said after a beat. 

“Why?” Harry whined. 

“Your little friends will be back soon, right?” Draco asked. He started to move. 

“You’re probably right,” Harry said, falling back on his pillow. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Draco said, leaning down to kiss him. “Don’t be fussy.”

“I’m not being fussy,” Harry rolled his eyes, lifting his head for another kiss. 

Draco grabbed his robes, ignoring Harry, which made the green eyed boy let out a grumpy noise. 

“When will you be back?” he asked quietly. 

“We’ll see each other tomorrow, won’t we? In the library?”

“Ugh,” Harry groaned. “In the library?”

“Just like everyday, Potter.”

“Yes, but… couldn’t we do something better?”

“Like snog someplace secret?” Draco scoffed. “I do have work to do.”

“Then just stay a little while longer here,” Harry whined. “Stay a while here and we can be as boring as you want tomorrow.”

“Mm, tempting but no. I really have to go.”

Standing, Harry walked over to him and put both arms around the blond boy’s waist. 

“Harry,” Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Stay. They won’t be back for a while.” 

And, as it turns out, that’s where Harry was wrong. 

It was unfathomable how neither boy heard anyone coming, but suddenly Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville were all bursting into the room, laughing and talking. Harry felt Draco go stiff in his arms and he immediately let go, but not before the four boys came to a shocked silence, staring at them. 

There were a good three seconds before everyone erupted into noise. “What the bloody hell is going on?” Ron shouted just as Neville said, “Harry, are you-” and Dean said, “Mate, are you serious?!” 

In all this chaos, Draco pulled his robes even tighter and pushed past everyone and out the door. “Dray, wait-” Harry shouted, making the four boys groan. 

“Dray? Harry, man, come to your senses!” Seamus said, sounding revolted. 

“I can’t believe you’re shagging the ferret! It’s bloody sick is what it is!” Ron said. 

“Guys, just-” Harry stuttered, trying to shove past them. But Draco was already gone.

“No way are you running away!” Ron said, blocking him. “You can’t be serious with this!”

“Ron, I never meant-”

“Oh, I’m sure you never meant to! It just happened that you and Malfoy were alone in your room and you’re not even wearing a bloody shirt, didn’t it?!”

Harry finally managed to push his way past all of them, and out into the common room. “Harry, what’s going on?” Hermione asked, rushing over to him. “Why did Draco just rush out of here? And what’s with all the shouting?”

“I’ll tell you what’s with the shouting,” Ron said, coming out behind them. “Harry’s shagging Malfoy.”

Suddenly, everyone in the common room got deadly quiet and turned towards Harry. “I-” he stammered.

“Is that true?” Hermione asked, searching his face with big eyes.

“I didn’t- we weren’t- we’re just…”

“Harry, it’s okay,” Hermione said softly, taking one of his hands. 

“No, it’s not bloody okay!” Ron said, storming over to them. “Did you forget what Malfoy’s done to you? To all of us?”

“He was a child, Ron, and he-”

“We were all children! I hated Harry even being friends with him, let alone his little boyfriend-”

“Ron!”

Ron glared at Hermione, who tilted her chin higher. Then he looked at Harry, who was standing still, shellshocked. 

“Whatever. You and Malfoy can bone all you want. Just leave me out of it,” he finally said, walking back to their bedroom. 

“Oh, Ron…” Hermione shook her head. And then she turned to Harry and pursed her lips. “Are you okay?”

“I…” Harry trailed. 

“Would you like to go somewhere more private?” she asked gently. Harry nodded. 

 

A few minutes later, they were alone in one of the corridors. “So… how long has this been going on?” Hermione asked. 

“A little over a month,” Harry said softly. “At first we weren’t… but he’s so… I don’t know, Hermione. We were just friends, but then… something just changed, I guess.”

“But… I’m sorry, I just don’t understand. Draco Malfoy?”

“Like you said, he was just a child. And he’s so different when you get to know him. He’s still a prick and a brat and he’s definitely still bossy and spoiled, but he’s also… scared. And thoughtful. And he knows how to take care of himself, but that’s because nobody else takes care of him, and I just… he knows what it’s like. Besides you and Ron, nobody else truly knows what it was like. And you two have each other,” Harry said. 

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s great that you’re together, it’s just… lonely sometimes. And Draco is lonely sometimes too. And we’re not just… whatever, because we’re both lonely. I really like him, Mione. He’s smart and witty and he doesn’t treat me like a hero, just like… a normal kid.”

“Well then that’s… good,” Hermione nodded. “I mean, if you like him and he likes you then why shouldn’t the two of you… date?”

“I can think of about a thousand reasons,” Harry shrugged. “Starting with what just happened.”

“Oh, Ron will get over it. He’s just lost one brother, Harry. He won’t lose another. And I don’t see how anyone else’s opinion matters. It’s your relationship,” Hermione said. 

“Even if their opinions don’t matter, the whole world will weigh in on it. And I doubt many people will be happy about the… Chosen One and the Malfoy heir.”

“Yes, well… that may well be but…”

“I don’t want to let that influence me, but I can’t help it. Besides, we were planning on telling people, but just not… yet.”

“Well, now that people know, what are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to talk to him.”

“Yes, of course,” Hermione nodded. “But I hope you can work things out. And I hope you know that I… that I don’t feel any differently about you now. I’d… love to get to know Draco. 

“Thanks, Mione,” Harry nodded. “You don’t have to, though. I’d completely understand if you’re not ready to… move past everything that happened with him.”

“Oh, Harry. If Draco has changed… well, I’ve been trying to move past everything that happened for a long time. I would be happy to move past some… childhood bullying,” Hermione shrugged.

Sighing, Harry ran one hand through his hair. “Thank you.”

Hermione smiled, reached over and put her hand over his. “Are you going to go to him?”

“I don’t know. Not tonight. He probably needs time to think.”

“Alright. Well, how about we head back to Gryffindor. Ron will probably be asleep by now, judging by how much firewhiskey he had.” 

“Alright,” Harry nodded, standing. Hermione stood, too, and wrapped him in a big hug. 

 

By the time they got back to the common room, it was quiet. “Go on to the boy’s side. I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”

“See you, Mione,” he said. 

She smiled at him one last time before turning towards the girl’s dorms. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Walking over to the boy’s side, Harry tried to move in sneakily, but he found Ron awake and sitting up in his bed. 

“Oh,” Harry said, staring at him. “Hi.”

“Harry, mate,” Ron said quietly. “I’m… sorry for freaking out.”

Harry layed down, pulling the covers up over his shoulders. “It’s fine.”

“No, really. I shouldn’t’ve… I just don’t get it. How can you… how can you?”

Harry knew he wasn’t asking in the same way Hermione had. It was more than just what he liked about Malfoy. It was how he could ever move past all that had happened. With Draco, with Lucius, with everyone. How he could even look at Draco and not be brought back to all the pain and fear they’d faced over the last seven years. 

So Harry explained. 

 

“Oh,” Ron was saying, forty-five minutes later. 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. 

“So, you… you really like Draco, huh?”

“Yep,” Harry nodded again. “Trust me, I’m surprised, too.”

“Well… I guess that’s that. Are you gonna be, like, boyfriends, now?” 

“Yeah. If he’s not too freaked out with people knowing.”

“Do you think he will be?”

Smiling, Harry shrugged. “I don’t think so. I think he’ll be okay.”

“Good,” Ron said. “I guess you’ll have to talk to him about it soon.”

“Yeah. And, you know, it wouldn’t hurt if you maybe apologized for freaking out to him, too,” Harry said. 

Groaning, Ron looked away. “Seriously?”

“I understand if you don’t want to, I just think he’d appreciate it.”

“I… I’ll think about it.”

“Alright. Thanks, Ron.”

“Yeah,” Ron nodded. “Goodnight, mate.”

“Goodnight.”

 

The next morning, Harry woke up to an empty room. It was Saturday, but it wasn’t that late. When he got up and headed towards the common room, he started overhearing a conversation. 

“We will march into the Great Hall, go to Slytherin, and walk up to Draco, okay?”

“But, Hermione-”

“Ronald Weasley. You will then say that you’re sorry for being a prat last night. And I will say that we’re happy for him and Harry, and we would love to get to know him better.”

“That’s pushing it.”

“Too bad.”

“He’s not going to buy it.”

Harry heard a thud and then Ron groaning. “He will buy it if you say it sincerely. Which you will. Right?”

“Right, right, geez. You’re going to bruise me with that book of yours.”

“Sorry,” Hermione said, and then it sounded like she kissed him. Ron let out a soft appreciative noise. 

Feeling creepy now, Harry walked out. Hermione pulled back, brightening at the sight of him. “Harry!”

“Hi,” Harry said, walking down to them. “What’s up?”

“We were just going down to breakfast. Right, Ron?”

“Right,” Ron nodded. “Coming?”

“Yeah, sure, let me just get dressed,” Harry said, heading back to his room. Soon, they were all headed to the Great Hall. 

Although Harry thought he knew what was about to happen, he was in no way prepared for Draco to stand and come walking over to them as soon as he, Hermione and Ron as soon as they walked in. 

“Granger, Weasley,” he said as soon as he got to them, tilting his head up. “You obviously know that Harry and I have been… seeing each other. And so I think it would be… best for everyone if the three of us tried to get along. And if we are ever to get along, I know it has to start with this… I am… sorry. For taunting you, for insulting you, for harassing you. It was cruel and childish and… frankly stupid. And so, I’m apologizing. I hope we can get to know each other better.”

There was a generally shocked silence throughout the room. Draco was pink in the face but didn’t lower his chin or break eye contact, not even for a second. Harry had never been as into him. 

“Oh!” Hermione finally said. “Oh, well, actually… we were going to say something similar, really. The three of us have never really seen eye to eye but… now that you’re dating Harry, well, we love him very much, and we should… well, yes, we would love to get to know you better.” She was fumbling over her words, obviously not having expected this apology either. After a silent beat, she gently elbowed Ron. “Right?”

“Oh, uhm, right. We would… love to get to know you, Malfoy. And, um… I’m sorry for… reacting how I did yesterday. I was… caught of guard.” 

“As anyone would have been. Don’t think of it. Well, since that’s been taken care of…” Draco looked around, perfectly aware that the whole school was watching him. “I suppose I’ll see you later.” With that, he turned with a dramatic flourish of his robes and returned to Slytherin. 

There was a bit of quiet before Ron said, in a still surprised voice, “See you.”

 

“Well. That was perfectly unexpected! I mean, I never thought Draco would…” Hermione said as they sat down.

“It was bloody freaky, it was,” Ron mumbled, grabbing some food. Harry was across from them, grinning like an idiot.

“Oh, grow up. He was clearly trying to make amends, you could at least meet him halfway,” Hermione scolded, opening her notes as she fixed herself a plate. 

“Oi, I did! I apologized like you said, didn’t I?” Ron protested. 

“I suppose. It seemed a bit half hearted.”

“You’re killed me, Mione,” Ron mumbled. Hermione smiled and moved her arm under the table, probably taking his hand. Harry was still staring across the Great Hall, at Draco, who was still blushing as he talked with Blaise. 

After he’d been staring for way too long, he saw Pansy poke Draco and getsure to him. The blond boy rolled his eyes and glanced at Harry. He narrowed his eyes, scowling. Harry grinned wider and rested his chin on his hands. 

 

“You were very sweet today,” Harry said as he came up behind Draco later that day. The Slytherin jumped a foot and spun around. 

“Merlin, Potter, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” Harry laughed. “But seriously. That was very sweet of you.”

“I’d hardly call it sweet,” Draco scoffed. “I was well mannered.”

“Yes, you were polite, but you were… sweet. In a Draco way.”

Making a horribly offended noise, Draco tilted up his nose. “A Draco way? There’s no such thing. You’re just being sentimental.”

“Fine,” Harry said, backing off. “But thank you. It really meant a lot, you taking the first step like that.”

Draco made a noise of acknowledgement. “I figured if we stopped all courtship you’d be a brokenhearted puppy and I can’t deal with a mopey Potter when I’m trying to study for final exams. And I doubted Weasley would be too happy taking the first step.”

“And Hermione?”

“Granger… she’s quite kind. I’m sure we would have gotten on no matter who decided to apologize first. But it doesn’t really matter if I don’t make things right with Weasley, does it?”

“I don’t know. Either way, it means a lot to me.”

“Well… good. I’m glad.”

“We never really talked about what happened yesterday,” Harry said. Draco blushed. 

“Don’t remind me. I’ve been trying to forget all day.”

“Yeah, well… are you okay? With everyone… knowing?”

“It’s out of our hands now, isn’t it?” Draco said. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think it would come to light like that. But what’s done is done. Although horribly embarrassed, I’ll recover.”

“Yeah. Yes. Of course,” Harry nodded. 

“Unless… you’re not okay with it?” Draco asked, staring at Harry, who bit his tongue. 

He hadn’t given it much thought before now, what with worrying about Draco and Ron and Hermione (and Dean and Seamus and Neville’s eyes.) Was he okay with the whole world knowing about them? And the whole world would definitely know. It would likely be in the Daily Prophet by the next day. 

“Well…” he trailed. “Maybe we should… slow things down a bit. At least in public.”

“Slow things down in public?” Draco asked. “I hate to remind you Potter, but before today we weren’t doing anything in public.”

“I know, but we were doing things not in public that maybe we shouldn’t do… in public. I mean, I know everyone knows now, but maybe we shouldn’t… act differently than we always have.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged. “It just seems like that would… stop the media from having such a circus with it.”

“A circus?”

“Like you said, there’ll be riots,” Harry said softly. He watched Draco’s face fall slightly before he composed himself. 

“Oh. I see. You’re right.”

“Obviously I don’t want to break up or anything, just…”

“Just go on pretending so the world won’t hate you for dating a Death Eater.” Draco looked away. 

“You’re not a Death Eater,” Harry shook his head. Draco rolled his eyes.

“What do you call this, then?” he said, rolling up his sleeve to show Harry his Dark Mark. 

“That doesn’t mean…”

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions. But before, we were keeping what we have a secret because of issues involving our personal lives. Or friends and families. Or, at least that’s what I thought. But those issues have been confronted, at least preliminarily. So tell me, if I weren’t who I am- if I weren’t a Malfoy and didn’t have a Dark Mark- would you keep our relationship a secret?” Draco kept his face expressionless as he stared at Harry. 

Harry stared back. “I… I don’t… it’s just…”

After a few more awkward seconds, Draco nodded. “I see.”

“Draco, it’s not-”

“It’s fine, Harry. Let’s just… you’re right. Let’s just take things slow for a while.”

“Like… take a break?”

Brushing past him, Draco headed down the hall. “It’s up to you.”

 

“You told him you were embarrassed of him?!” Hermione gasped, bringing both hands towards her mouth. “Oh, Harry, no.”

“I didn’t say that! I just think that’s what he… got from the conversation,” Harry feebly explained, laying with his legs up on the back of the common room couch. 

“Well, didn’t you deny it?” Hermione asked. When Harry didn’t say anything, she groaned again. “Oh, Harry.”

“You know, mate, this whole ‘you dating Malfoy’ thing is actually going better than I expected. We finally found something I’m better than you at!” Ron chimed in from where he was playing chess with Dean. 

“Ronald,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“What? It’s true, isn’t it? I’m the best boyfriend.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows and made a disbelieving face, prompting Ron to sputter and stand up. 

“What does that mean?” he asked, outraged. 

“I’m just saying, dear, you could stand to be a bit more… romantic, once in awhile,” Hermione tried to soothe him, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. 

“I’m plenty romantic! Remember when I bought you all those chocolate frogs last week?” Ron asked indignantly. Hermione pressed her lips together and nodded. 

“I do remember that, sweetheart. You just play chess, we can talk later if you really like. For now, I’m trying to help Harry with his boy troubles,” she said, waving Ron away. Sulking, he returned to his game. “Anyway. What exactly did you say?”

“I said that I thought it would be good to still act like we’ve always acted in public so the media wouldn’t… freak out. So he said I wanted to pretend we aren’t dating because I’m ashamed that he’s a Death Eater, which he’s not. And I said so, but he asked if I’d be behaving this way if he wasn’t him, and I guess I didn’t respond right away, and he took that to mean I am ashamed of him,” Harry sighed. 

“Well, are you?” Hermione asked. 

“No!” Harry said immediately. “Well… maybe. Not ashamed of him, just… not everyone knows him like I do. Plenty of people think he legitimately supported Voldemort. And I don’t want people thinking I could forgive… somebody like that. It’s been such a short time, too.”

Hermione smiled sympathetically. “I see what you mean. But, Harry… he has to live with people thinking that about him all the time. It must be very tiring. And for you to… imply that you’re embarrassed to be seen with him because of those people, well… I wouldn’t be very happy with you if I were him, either. You’ve probably just hurt his feelings.”

“But what am I supposed to do? I try to be reasonable with myself, but I can’t shake the feeling that being completely public will end poorly,” Harry said.

“Well, the press likely already knows, as all of Hogwarts does. Whether or not you two publicly display your affection, the whole world will know you’re together by tomorrow. Unless you break up with him, nothing will make much of a difference. And I know you hate being such a… public figure. But you are, and you’re going to have to live with that. And so is Draco. Honestly, you could tackle this together. Dispel any confusion or distrust together. I’m sure he was hoping for that sort of response from you. Not that you don’t want to be seen with him,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes slightly. Harry groaned. 

“Somehow you’re always right.”

“Hardly,” Hermione laughed, embarrassed. 

“I guess I have some apologizing to do,” Harry sighed. 

“I would say so.” Hermione stood and walked towards Ron, leaning down to kiss his head. “I’m going to go to bed. See you tomorrow, boys.”

“Goodnight, Mione,” Harry said, as Ron said, “G’night, love.”

Harry was still thinking over everything Hermione had said to him when Ron asked, “Are chocolate frogs unromantic?”

 

The next morning, Harry was at the Slytherin dorms bright and early, waiting for Draco to come out. When he did, side by side with Blaise and Pansy, he saw Harry and immediately looked away. 

“Dray,” Harry called, stumbling towards him. 

“Harry,” Draco replied, slowing to a stop. Blaise was standing by awkwardly but Pansy had her arms crossed and her chin up and her eyes narrowed. 

“Well, I wanted to… talk to you,” Harry said. 

“About what?” Draco asked. 

“Do you need us, Dray?” Pansy asked. 

“No, no, you two can go,” Draco nodded. 

“Okay,” Pansy said. Blaise gave an small nod and the two of them walked off. 

“Well?” Draco said, narrowing his eyes. 

“Look, Draco… I’m sorry,” Harry said. “Really. I was a prick yesterday.”

“It’s fine, Harry,” Draco waved him off. 

“No, seriously. I messed up. I was worried of what people who don’t know you would think. But I didn’t even think that you have to deal with that all the time. I was being stupid. We can face the press together and… dispel confusion and distrust together,” Harry said, feeling sheepish. “I never wanted to hurt your feelings,” at this, Draco blushed deeper. “I never want to do that. I want… I want to be with you. In public. A real, public couple.”

Looking away, Draco pushed his lips together. “You think I don’t know that us dating will… tarnish your image? I understand that, Harry. I understand your reasoning. I just wish… it didn’t have to be that way.”

“It doesn’t,” Harry sighed, shaking his head. “I doesn’t have to be that way. We can just… we can do this together. You know?” 

Draco sighed. “Very inspirational.”

“Seriously,” Harry said. “I’m so sorry. I know how much you have to deal with and I… made you feel worse. For my own selfish reasons.”

“It wasn’t selfish, Harry, just… pracicle.”

“Draco, no,” Harry shook his head. “It was selfish. I know people have treated you badly under the guise of practicality, but I don’t want that to be me.”

Draco didn’t change his expression at all. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry repeated one last time. “Please forgive me.”

After a few silent seconds, Draco nodded once. “I forgive you.” 

“Really?” Harry said, surprised.

“Really. I know you’re being sincere and I… I don’t want us to fight.”

“Me neither,” Harry rushed, walking over to him. He tried to take Draco’s hand but the blond boy pulled it back. 

“Not so fast, Potter. You want to be in a public relationship now?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded.

“Well then, you have to have dinner with Blaise and Pansy,” Draco said, turning and walking towards the Great Hall.

“Oh. Okay. I’ll invite Ron and Hermione, too,” Harry said, jogging to catch up. 

 

“I was thinking it would be just the three of you,” Draco said.

Laughing, Harry asked, “What, like an interview?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “More of a… personal get to know you session.”

“So you don’t even want to be there?”

“I just think it would be nice if you got to know them personally,” Draco said. 

“How about them, me, you, Ron and Hermione. That way we can all get to know each other,” Harry suggested. 

Draco huffed. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine.”

Smiling, Harry finally took his hand. “I’m sorry again,” he said. 

And he was surprised when, right as turned the corner, Draco kissed his cheek. “Don’t think about it.”

 

Two days later, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Draco, Blaise and Pansy were sitting across from each other at Hogsmeade. 

Harry was in an old flannel, Ron was in one of his mother’s sweaters, and Hermione was in a blouse. None of them had done a thing with their hair or face, and they were all in jeans. 

Pansy had on red lipstick, cat eye eyeliner, and a navy blue dress. Blaise was in khakis and a button down with a nice sport coat. Draco was in his black slacks and a forest green sweater, hair meticulously styled. 

“Well this is fun!” Hermione said for what had to be the tenth time since they arrived. Ron snorted, and she kicked him under the table, making him gasp and curse. Pansy smirked. 

“Mmhmm.”

“So… what do you guys like to do?” Blaise asked. He was bouncing his leg nervously. Draco just looked miserable. 

“Well, we play Quidditch,” Harry said, 

“Right, right, yeah.”

“And, um… Ron is… very good at chess.”

Here, Pansy hummed. “Likely,” she said. 

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked, leaning over the table slightly.

She didn’t look up from her nails as she said, “We all remember when Dumbledore announced that you’d played the best game of chess ever seen at Hogwarts back in second year or whatever-”

“First year.”

Finally looking at him, Pansy raised one eyebrow. “Whatever. I just happen to be very good at chess as well. I never got the chance to… show off on a magical, life-sized board, but I’m sure if we played, you’re title as Hogwarts king of chess would go-” she waved with one hand, “bye-bye.”

Draco glared at her out of the corner of his eye, but she didn’t seem to notice. 

“How about we play then? See if you’re all talk or not?” Ron was saying, red in the face. Pansy smiled. 

“Fine by me. Loser pays for drinks?”

Ron nodded. “You’re on.”

 

An hour later, Pansy had beat Ron by a margin, and he was sullenly buying them all firewhiskey. 

“I’ve never been able to get that spell,” Blaise was saying to Hermione as she performed a simple spell that blew a pink heart towards Ron. 

“Oh, it’s really quite simple. You’re probably emphasizing the wrong syllable, it’s very particular about that,” Hermione replied. She cast it a second time, making Ron grin dopily all over again as he caught the heart in the palm of his hand. Pansy gagged. 

“Are you two always like this?”

“We’re in love,” Ron sighed, and Hermione blushed. 

“Don’t be so emotionless, Pans, it’s sweet,” Blaise said. Pansy rolled her eyes. 

Still at their table, Harry tilted his head. “You know, I think we’ve made out friends become friends, instead of becoming friends with each other’s friends ourselves.”

Draco snorted. “Better than nothing.”

 

Later that night, they were all walking back, and Hermione and Draco were having a very animated conversation about the wonders of Potions, Ron and Blaise were discussing some difficult exam they’d just taken, and Pansy was ranting to Harry about how long she’d had to hear about Draco’s obsession with him and how glad she was that they were finally together so he would shut up. And Harry couldn’t help but think that maybe they were all becoming friends after all. 

 

And so things were actually okay after that. They were together, publically, and their friends actually got along. 

And even though it was certainly more… settled than before, Harry was still learning new things about Draco all the time. 

For instance, that boy loved to be cuddled. Which was absolutely unexpected. 

He would never ask. The first time, Harry felt pretty blind for not seeing what was going on before. 

“I’m cold,” Draco said, drawing his knees up to his chest under the three blankets he had on top of him. 

“As you’ve said,” Harry laughed. “Do you want another blanket?”

They were sitting on his bed playing a board game which Harry insisted was fun and Draco thought was Muggle stupidity. 

“No,” Draco shook his head. 

“Well then what do you want?” Harry asked. Draco pouted and looked away, and Harry laughed. “You’re cute when you pout.”

“I’m not pouting. Malfoy’s don’t pout,” Draco shook his head. 

“Okay,” Harry shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want a blanket…”

“Nevermind,” Draco shook his head. 

“No-” Harry started to say, but Draco suddenly stood up, walked over to him, and sat down next to Harry. 

“I just…” he mumbled, leaning into Harry’s side. “I’m cold.”

“Oh,” Harry said, surprised. He was stiff as Draco snuggled up to him. “Here, um…” he wrapped one arm around Draco’s shoulders and pulled him a little closer. They sat in silence for a minute, until Harry said. “It’s your turn.”

“Okay,” Draco nodded. And then they went back to playing. 

 

After a while, though, Harry learned to pick up on the signals of when Draco wanted to be cuddled. “I’m cold,” and “I’m tired,” were big ones. 

 

Another thing about Draco, he got sleepy when he was drunk. He didn’t drink often, mostly because it made him anxious. The first time Harry witnessed this, he’d invited Draco to come out with him and a lot of the other Gryffindors to watch a Quidditch match and get some food because “They’d like to get to know you!”

“You just want to show them I’m not a snob.”

“No, no,” Harry shook his head. “They just want to get to know you.”

So Draco had agreed, but he hadn’t been excited about it. In fact, he’d been nervous for the entire week leading up. So when they got there, and he immediately got a firewhiskey, Harry wasn’t surprised. He was surprised when that firewhiskey turned into three, and then while everyone else animatedly watching the game, Draco was curled into him, with his hair falling into his face and a pretty pink blush over his face. 

He could tell that the others were just as surprised by this development as he was, but nobody did much besides share raised-eyebrow glances and try to conceal laughter as Harry awkwardly tried not to jostle him too much. 

“Come on, we’re going,” he said later that night when everyone was heading home. 

“Noo,” Draco whined, holding tighter to the robes he’d been using as a blanket. 

Harry definitely didn’t miss the way Ron and Ginny were whispering to each other, trying not to giggle. “Yes,” he said, standing up and hopping a few times as Draco tried to drag him down again. 

“Ugh,” the blond boy finally huffed. “Fine.” He stood, wobbling a little, and rubbed his eyes. Harry layed one hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Draco waved him off. 

“Okay,” Harry nodded. The group started to move towards the exit, and by the time they made their way back to Hogwarts, Draco looked like he was half-asleep on his feet. 

“Going back to Slytherin?” Harry asked. 

“Mmhmm,” Draco nodded. He started to walk away, but Harry grabbed his hand. 

“I’ll walk you.”

“Mkay,” the blond boy sighed. He leaned into Harry’s side as they made their way down. 

The walk was silent until they got right outside Slytherin. 

“Okay,” Harry said. “Here we are.”

“You know, they’re going to give me so much shit for spending my evening with a bunch of Gryffindor,” Draco said, staring at the door. 

Harry smiled. “I’ll make it up to you soon. I’ll hang out with all your Slytherin friends.”

“Mmhmm. They’re very curious about you, golden boy.” Draco smiled, but then looked away. “I’m sorry for being such a bore tonight.”

“You weren’t boring,” Harry shook his head. 

“Well, I definitely wasn’t much fun,” Draco sighed. “I was just very nervous.”

“I know,” Harry nodded. “We don’t have to do stuff like that again if you don’t want to.” 

“No, we should do stuff like that,” Draco shrugged. “It’s just… all your friends are so… nice. And I feel like must think I’m just… absolute scum compared to you.”

“Dray, they don’t think that,” Harry said, walking to him and wrapping both arms around his shoulders. “They… want to get to know you, because they’re curious. We went from hating each other to friends to dating in… not a very long time. They’re just curious. But they all know what you did for us during the war. And they know you’re not a bad person.”

Draco hummed into his chest. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

After a few more minutes, the blond boy pulled back, kissed him lightly, and said, “I’m quite tired. See you tomorrow?”

Harry nodded. “See you.”

 

Another thing Harry learned, Draco was fiercely protective. 

Once, when they were out for lunch and a group from the Daily Prophet bombarded them, screaming questions about their relationship and the recent rumors that had sprung up about Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort’s romantic (if that was even the right word) relationship (which was probably utter crap and even if it wasn’t, why in Merlin’s name would Harry know one thing about it?) Draco was the one who dealt with it. 

“No comment,” Harry had said as soon as they arrived and started asking questions, but when the shouting didn’t end, Draco rolled his eyes, took Harry’s hand, and stood up. 

“You’re all being incrediably rude,” he informed the journalists and photographers. And then he apparated them back to Hogwarts. 

After regaining his balance, Harry looked at Draco to find the blond boy frowning deeply. “What prats. Can’t they leave you alone for five minutes? You have a right to privacy. I ought to have paralysed them.”

“Draco,” Harry shook his head, smiling. “What you did was fine.”

Looking at him, Draco frowned more deeply. “But what they did wasn’t. I know how much you hate the media and having the whole world try to pry into every part of your life. But you act like you think you owe them something. You never walk away, you just let them harass you into responding to their ridiculous questions. You don’t owe those vulchers a thing. You saved the world. Isn’t that enough?”

Harry bit his lip. “I just feel… bad. There are plenty of people out there who get so much hope from me and I don’t want to disappoint them.”

After a still moment, Draco walked over to him. He took Harry’s jaw into his hands and forced them into eye contact. “Listen to me. You died for them. If they are ever disappointed, it is not your fault.”

Sighing, Harry nodded. “I know. I just… forget sometimes.”

Draco nodded back. “Well, luckily, I’ll always be here to remind you.”

“Always?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. Always was a long time. 

Draco flushed. After a beat though, he nodded. “Always.”

 

Things were give and take, as they are in any relationship. They both had their struggles as boyfriends- Harry was outlandishly unobservant and sometimes but Draco on the back burner when he was fixated on something generally saving-people related, and Draco needed constant validation but, at the same time, could be cold and emotionally reclusive. But they dealt with it. Sometimes the fights were serious, like the time Harry had been allowed to shadow an Auror case and had become obsessed, barely seeing Draco weeks, and, by the looks of it, not doing much sleeping either. 

“He looks like he’s about to drop dead!” Draco seethed from where he was seated with Hermione and Pansy in the library. Harry was across the room. 

“This is just how he is,” Hermione sighed. “I make sure he eats and Ron tries to make him go to bed, but other than that there’s not much we can do. He thinks he has to save the whole world. This is why I worry about him actually becoming an Auror.”

“Why don’t you talk to him, Dray? Isn’t he, like, madly in love with you?” Pansy said, sounding a bit bored by this conversation.

“Well, last time I tried to talk to him he very nicely told me to piss off,” Draco replied, and Pansy let out a surprised laugh. 

“Boy Who Lived said that?”

“Not exactly. He said,” Draco started running one hand through his hair and imitated Harry’s annoyed voice, “‘I would quite appreciate some space until I can figure this out, Draco!’” 

Hermione giggled. “You have his voice down.”

“Thank you,” Draco rolled his eyes. “Has Weasley tried talking to him? They’re practically brothers.”

“Oh, Ron always figures that if he’s not dead, he’s fine, so even when I force him to talk to Harry, it’s not very convincing,” Hermione said, fiddling with her pen. 

“How is that ginger boy of yours?” Pansy asked. “I’ve heard the Weasleys are deceptively good in bed.”

At this, Hermione went bright pink and Draco laughed. “Where did you hear that from?” he asked, just as Hermione said, “Well, I never!”

“Anonymous source,” Pansy said. “So, is it true?”

“I do not want to think about Weasley in that… way,” Draco shook his head. 

At that moment, from behind them, they all heard, “Think about me how?” and then Ron was sitting with them. 

“Ron!” Hermione gasped. “Nothing! Um, yes- nothing. But look at Harry! He’s killing himself.”

After giving them all suspicious looks, Ron looked across the room. “Yeah, he doesn’t look too good.”

“Are you going to say something to him?” Draco asked. 

“He doesn’t listen to me,” Ron shrugged. “Have you tried? He’s dating you, remember? For some unfathomable reason.”

Draco knew this was a joke. He rolled his eyes and said, “He’s with me for my beautiful hair and impeccable taste.”

“Nah, I think he’s just in it for the money. No matter, though, he’s with you, so you should be the one to talk to him,” Ron nodded. 

“You missed the part of the conversation where Draco explained how he got shot down last time he tried to say anything to his precious boyfriend,” Pansy said. 

“Really?” Ron asked. 

“Like Errol Diggle in last year’s Quidditch finals. Shot right out of the sky.”

Ron laughed loudly, and then covered his mouth when the books shushed him. After regaining composure, he said, “Well, then, I guess that’s it. Nobody can get to him.”

And something about that pissed Draco off, because why on earth couldn’t he get to his own damn boyfriend? So he snapped his book shut, stood up, and walked across the room, much to the surprise of his three companions. 

“Potter,” he said as he got to the other table. 

Harry kept reading for a second before looking dazedly up at him. 

“Oh, hey, Dray,” he said, giving a brief smile. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“That’s what I get? After a week of ignoring me?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry mumbled, already back to reading. 

Draco waited a few moments before narrowing his eyes, walking to the library doors, and whispering, “Accio Harry.”

He tried not to smirk as Harry suddenly flew across the room and into his arms. With the green eyed boy in a state of confusion, Draco managed to drag him out to the corridor. 

“Draco, what- what the bloody hell?” Harry sputtered, regaining his footing and pulling his arm out of Draco’s grip. 

“Come on, we have to talk,” Draco said. 

“We could’ve talked like normal, civil people if you hadn’t accioed me!” Harry protested. 

“Last time I tried to talk to you, you told me to bugger off, so I figured this was my last option,” Draco said calmly. He walked into an empty classroom and Harry followed him. 

“Well, fine then. What do you so badly want to talk about?” he asked, running one hand through his hair. Draco narrowed his eyes. 

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

“What? I don’t know. What’s that got to do with anything?” 

“And the night before?”

“Draco-”

“If I had to guess, I’d say not much, considering you look like death.”

“So what if I’m focusing on this case? It’s a big opportunity for me and it’s important and-”

“Am I important?” 

This made Harry stop and shake his head incredulously. “What? Draco, you know you’re important to me. Of course.”

“Well then bloody treat me like it. And Hermione, and Weasley, and everyone else who cares for you so deeply that it- it pains them to see you like this! You let yourself become so wrapped up in these hero antics that you shut everyone else out!”

“I’m sorry I want to help people!” Harry snapped. Draco drew in his eyebrows.

“What you? Who helps you? You won’t let anybody give you any sort of help, ever! And not only is it foolish and self-destructive, it hurts me, too! And, like I said, everyone who cares about you! You’re not taking care of yourself, Harry!”

“And you’re not my nanny!” 

“I may not be, but I am your boyfriend, and I happen to love you!” Draco finally said, feeling himself go pink. Harry blinked in surprise. 

“You… love me?” he finally repeated. 

“Yes, you idiot. And I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you, but I haven’t gotten many opportunities these last few weeks, have I? Just like when I woke up screaming from nightmares about the Dark Lord raping my mother, who did I have to turn to?” Draco asked, bringing both hand to hover over his mouth. Harry looked away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. 

“Just…” Draco shuddered, shaking his head. He walked over to Harry and hugged him tight. “You’re losing yourself in that big heart of yours. I can’t- I can’t lose you. You have to take care of yourself. If you can’t do it for you, or your friends, do it for me.”

There was a long time before Harry hugged him back. “I just… can’t… I have to help them. And I’m so tired, but I can’t… stop.”

Draco nodded. “I know. I know. But you have to. Because you can’t help anyone if you don’t help yourself.”

“It’s so hard,” Harry whispered. 

“I know. Which is why you have to let me in. Or, at least somebody. So we can give you a whack over the head and a reminder to sleep.”

They didn’t say anything for a whole after that. Just held each other. 

They didn’t say anything until Harry tightened his grip and said, “I love you, too.”

 

So, sometimes their arguments were loud and painful. Other times, though, they were petty and stupid and spiteful. Like one of those times when Draco had been being a prick for a week straight. 

“Will you pass me that book?” Harry asked from where he was sitting on his bed. 

Draco was seemingly doing nothing on the other side of the room, but instead of doing what Harry had asked, he sneered and said, “Why should I?”

Looking at him, Harry raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? It’s right next to you?” 

“What, so I get your precious book, walk all the way to you, and then all the way back here?”

“Or you could, you know, sit with me,” Harry suggested, rolling his eyes. 

Draco scoffed. “I like my personal space.”

At this, Harry had to fight a snort. Instead, he said, “Okay. I’ll get the book,” and stood up, walking to the other side of the room.

Draco glared up at him as he bent down to grab the book and then headed back to his side. 

“So… is there anything you want to talk about?” Harry asked as he sat down again. 

“No,” Draco shook his head. “Why? Is there something you want to talk about?”

“No,” Harry shook his head back. They both stared at each other for a beat before Harry resumed reading and Draco resumed idling around dramatically. 

A few minutes later, Dean walked in to their awkward silence. “Oh, great, are you two still fighting?” he asked, running to his bed and grabbing his tie.

“We’re not fighting,” Draco snapped. 

Dean snorted. “Mmhmm. Well, I hope you make up soon.” He then left the room. 

After a second, Harry looked at Draco again. “Are we fighting?”

“Why would we be fighting, Potter?” Draco asked. 

“I don’t know, but you’re acting like we’re fighting,” Harry shrugged. 

Scoffing, Draco turned his head to the side and lifted his chin. “If you haven’t done anything wrong, then why would we be fighting?”

“Have you done anything wrong?” Harry asked, leaning forward. 

“Wouldn’t you know if we were fighting over something I’d done?” Draco asked back, raising his eyebrows. 

After a minute, Harry shrugged again. “I never know with you.”

Draco looked at him and opened and closed his mouth. After a second, he stood. “You’re irksome,” he said, and then he left. 

Harry sat there stunned until he got control of himself and stumbled after his boyfriend. “Dray!” he called as Draco stormed out of Gryffindor. 

“I told you you were fighting,” Dean said as Harry chased after him.

“Draco,” Harry panted as he ran down the stairs. “What in Merlin’s name is going on?”

Turning back to look at him, Draco shook his head. “Nothing! Go back to Gryffindor with all your heroic friends.”

“You’re being mean today,” Harry frowned, confused. Draco laughed. 

“I’m mean everyday.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “You’re not.”

“Yes, I am! I’m Draco Malfoy! I’m the king of being mean!” Draco said, almost stomping one foot. Harry frowned more deeply. 

“You’re not,” he repeated. “What’s going on?”

He watched as Draco’s face softened, lost its meanness. “Nothing,” the blond boy said, looking down. “Just… nothing.”

“Draco,” Harry said, descending those last few steps to reach him. “Tell me what’s happening?”

“Why are you so patient with me? I’m such an arse to you.”

“Because I love you,” Harry said. “And you’re not. Not usually.”

Sighing, Draco walked to him and dropped his head onto Harry’s shoulder. “I just get so worried sometimes that you’ll realize one day that I’m not good enough for you. Not because of anything either of us have done. Just… me. So I guess I try to… scare you off.”

Harry nodded, wrapping his arms around Draco’s shoulders. “I know you feel like you’re not enough for me sometimes. But you are. You’re just gonna have to take my word for it. And as for trying to scare me off… I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

Draco sniffed, cuddling closer to him. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Harry nodded. 

They were quiet for a few seconds, until Draco said, “You make me such a damn sap, Potter. It’s disgusting.”

Harry only smiled. 

 

And then there was the bickering. Constant bickering. Harry knew it was probably more than the average couple, but they were both so stubborn, and there wasn’t much they agreed on. Coffee or tea. What was appropriate to wear on dates. How much talking was too much talking during sex. But even though their friends rolled their eyes and sometimes Harry swore Draco and his odd sexual demands would be the death of him, one day he showed up to the Great Hall to find a mug of coffee sitting next to Draco at Gryffindor, prepared just the way he liked, while the blond boy sipped his chamomile silently. And, on their next date, Harry tucked a white button down into khakis, despite Ron’s teasing, and actually tried to control his hair. 

So, through the fighting and arguing and bickering, they made it work. They made it work so well that early that April, Harry was asking Draco to come to the Weasley’s Easter with him. 

Draco paled, if that was possible. “At the Burrow?” he asked. 

“They’re just finished rebuilding,” Harry nodded. 

“Oh. Oh, Harry, I don’t know,” Draco shook his head. “Won’t they cast a killing curse on me the moment I walk in?”

“Oi, that’s my family you’re talking about,” Ron chimed in from his bed. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Exactly. And I wouldn’t blame them if they did.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Molly’s been begging to meet you properly for months now. And everyone else will be fine. Right, Ron?” Harry asked hopefully. Ron shrugged. 

“You won me over somehow. Mum probably already has a jumper knitted for you.”

Raising his eyebrows, Draco looked in between them. “What about… Ginny?”

“Oh, she’s all caught up with Dean again. She’ll hardly care. Besides, she sees you two snogging just as much as the rest of us,” Ron said. 

“We don’t snog in front of anyone,” Harry protested, and Ron laughed. 

“You think you’re quite sneaky, but you don’t get it past us.”

Draco now looked pale and flushed at once. “Are you sure they even want me there?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “Molly asked me to invite you.”

“It’s true. She’s been nagging him for months,” Ron chimed in. 

After a moment of almost nauseous looking consideration, Draco said, “I suppose its only polite.”

“Exactly. Besides, it’s just a quick lunch,” Harry said. 

Harry lied. 

 

Or, maybe he didn’t lie. Maybe he just actually considered a five hour ordeal to be a quick. But as soon as they walked into the Burrow- where Draco stuck out like a sore thumb- it was like he’d walked into a hurricane. He was thankful for Fleur, without whom he’d be the only blond. But between the six siblings and their spouses and their kids, it was just… a lot. Plus the parents. 

“Come in, come in, hello!” Molly beamed as she opened the door to the two of them, Ron and Hermione. 

“Hi, Mum,” Ron said, giving her the first hug. Molly held him for a good ten seconds before turning to Hermione with a big smile. 

“Hello, my love,” she said, brimming with joy. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Hermione replied, smiling. 

Molly patted her cheek once and then turned to Harry. “Hello, sweetheart,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Oh, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed all of you.”

“We missed you too, Molly,” he said. After all that, she turned to Draco. 

“Hi,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re here, Draco. I’ve been begging Harry to invite you.”

“Oh,” Draco said, stumbling a bit when she pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you! I’ve been- I’ve been looking forward to it.”

After another silent moment of hugging, she pulled back and said, “Oh! Oh, I have something! I have the sweater Ron asked me to make you!”

“Ugh, Mum,” Ron groaned, rolling his eyes and Molly ran into the house.

“You asked her?” Harry asked, shocked. 

Ron flushed as Hermione went, “Oh, Ron!” and kissed his cheek. 

Draco looked at him, drawing in his eyebrows. “Thank you,” he said after a beat. 

Bright red, Ron looked down. “It’s nothing.”

In a few seconds, Molly returned and thrust a forest green sweater with a grey D knitted onto the front into Draco’s hands. “I hope it fits!” she said nervously. Draco stared down at the sweater until Harry nudged him and he realized he was meant to try it on. 

Awkwardly pulling it over his button down, Draco found that it was a little loose, but in a good way. “It’s perfect,” he nodded after a second. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I love it.”

 

“Oh, call me Molly, love,” she waved him off. “And I’m so glad! Okay, okay, you all have to come in and see everyone!”

And, so, they moved inside. The actual lunch didn’t start for two hours, and there was a lot of, “Oh, you’re Draco! Harry’s told us so much about you!”s coupled with sly glances and groans from Harry. When they started to eat, Draco was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of food there was, and by the way everyone just kind of piled stuff on their plates and didn’t hesitate to start eating. 

“Come on, it’s good,” Harry nudged him, misinterpreting Draco’s surprise for apprehension about the food. Instead of correcting him, Draco waited until things had settled down at least a little, and then got some food. It had already been two hours, so Draco thought the meal couldn’t last very long, but he was wrong. An hour and a half later, everyone was still chatting over the table. And even though he hadn’t said a word, Draco actually felt pretty comfortable. So when they didn’t leave for another hour and a half, he didn’t mind. Harry didn’t let go of his hand for more than a few minutes the whole night, and snuck soft temple kisses whenever he could. 

Harry lied, but that was alright. 

 

Dinner with Narcissa was a little more awkward. 

“Okay, so you remember everything I told you not to talk about?” Draco asked, adjusting Harry’s time for what felt like the millionth time that night. 

“Yes, yes,” Harry nodded. 

“Okay. Good. Ready?”

“I’ve been ready for half an hour,” Harry laughed. “Are you ready?”

Draco nodded, one hand on his mouth. “Yes. Okay. Let’s go.”

They flooed to the Manor, and arrived to an empty but beautifully set and decorated dining room. “Mother!” Draco called, looking around. 

Narcissa came in from the kitchen, wearing a beautiful floor length gown. “Oh,” she said upon seeing the boys, bringing one hand to her heart. “Draco, my angel.”

Draco smiled and walked to her, resting his head on her shoulder as he bent slightly to hug her. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered. 

“I’ve missed you, too, my love. So much,” Narcissa said, hugging him back tightly. When he pulled away, she looked to Harry. “And Harry. It’s so lovely to see you.”

She opened her arms and Harry walked to her, giving a brief but sweet hug. “It’s nice to see you, too, Mrs. Malfoy. How are you?”

She gave a strained smile and nodded. “Good.”

“That’s good.”

They all stood in silence until she said, “Oh! Sit, please, the food will be out in a moment. Draco wasn’t very specific as to what you like to eat, Harry, so the elves and prepared a variety.”

“I’m sure it will be delicious,” Harry said, sitting. 

The house elves brought their food out soon thereafter, and it was quite good. Narcissa took a great deal of care cutting her meat and arranging the food on her plate, but didn’t do much eating. Harry wondered if this was where Draco had gotten his tendency to ignore food when he was anxious or sad. 

“Harry, I just wanted to say how happy I am that you and Draco are courting,” Narcissa said after a particularly long silence. Harry saw Draco blush out of the corner of his eye.

“Mother,” he shook his head. 

Narcissa have a small smile. “I know I must be embarrassing you, darling. But, Harry, you’ve done so much for our family. And I just want to thank you. And tell you that you are always welcome here.” She blinked a few times, and Harry worried that she was trying not to cry. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. I really appreciate it,” he said sincerely. She nodded. 

And, so, even though it was a bit more awkward than lunch at the Burrow, dinner at the Manor was nice, too. 

 

“I can’t believe were graduating,” Harry was saying that June as he packed up his things for the last time. Draco, having packed the night before, was sitting criss-cross on the floor, watching him.

“I know,” he nodded. 

“It’s so strange. After last year, I never thought I’d graduate.”

Draco smiled slightly. “I know. But you are.”

“And so are you,” Harry said, turning and bending down to give him a quick kiss. When he pulled back, he was smiling, too. “What are we going to do after today?”

“I don’t know,” Draco shrugged. He looked out the window at the sunny day. “But we’ll do it together.”

Harry, deciding packing could wait, sat down next to him and pulled Draco into his side. “Yeah. We’ll do it together.”

 

And they did.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments encourage me lots<3


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